Homecoming
by fanfictionnette
Summary: He needed time away, he knew that. A break from that annoying brat and that shrilly blue-haired woman. What he didn't consider - never considered - before he left, was her. Which didn't stop her from welcoming him back warmly every damn time. And having a home to come back to never felt so good. [Vegeta/OC] [Comfort/Fluff]


She inhaled ardently, her stubby, small nose buried deep in the edged sinews of his ripped back, in the valley just below his shoulder blades. He was like a tempest, the caustic fragrance of ozone and sweat filling her nostrils, wrapping around her compact frame, reminding her of the poignant smell of pouring rain. Her own personal storm; he was back. She always loved storms; she thought absent-mindedly, her arms tightening their grip around his ribs, hands splayed over his broad chest, pulling him closer. No, that wasn't right— pulling herself closer, attaching her body to his unyielding one, as he continued to stare ahead, through the window, stoically. It didn't matter. He hadn't moved, he hadn't moved _her_ , and feeling every inch of her front connected to him, feeling his warmth and presence and ki— it soothed her, assuaging the fire crackling and sparking inside of her at all times, threatening to combust, to consume her; and at the same time, it fueled it, nourishing what now only felt like a small flame, fragile, but content.

Parting her lips, she mouthed over the callous skin of his back, relishing at the feel of his slick flesh on her chapped aperture, pressing them down eagerly. The salty taste of him flooded her system akin to furiously lapping waves; she savored it, the tempestuous ocean that was him, standing impetuously before her, throwing her life into the chaos she craved so badly. Her ultimate addiction.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" he thundered quietly, his voice reverberating through her body, making her shudder. She felt the rumbling in his chest, his heart thumping steadily beneath her fingertips, and smiled against his skin, reveling in it.

Her earthy scent had wafted over to him before she ever did. Rustic, with a hint of sweetness. Just like her. Hidden from her, his nostrils flared. Warm as kindling, her presence enveloped him. It was still infuriating how it melted his icy edges and he fought stubbornly against her heat, setting himself in stone; arms by his side, feet shoulder-width apart, gazing straight ahead. Yet, he made no move to stop her as she coiled around him, pliable skin flushed against hard muscles, merging into him. He basked in it. The feel of the subtly toned muscles instinctively calming the raging whirlwind inside of him.

Then he felt the searing touch of her plush lips. It fed the gale brewing in his core, whipping up gusts of possessiveness in his soul, urging him to touch, to take. Reactions past his control. He had been away for too long. Training, exerting his body to its limits and now it demanded the healing balm of hers. Secretly why he came back; why he always did. The tip of her chocolate locks licked and sizzled at his sides, his fingers twitched. Would they still feel as smooth? As silky? He closed his eyes, releasing a small huff through his lips. He was certain it would. Ignoring the sudden — but ever-present — urges, he chastised her instead. Met by silence, riled up by her nuzzling of the nape of his neck, he turned, impatiently. He crossed his bulging arms over his chest, tucking the increasingly restless hands under his armpits, fixing her with his annoyed gaze.

"Insomnia." she crackled softly, shrugging one shoulder and tilting her head to peer up at his figure. _Nightmare_ , he translated, taking stock of the sibilating lilt of her tone. Strained.

His eyes locked with hers. The bright golden gaze, dimmed, shadowed by the bags under her almond eyes — the telltale sign of many sleepless nights. Calculating eyes still focused on her, he brought his calloused hand to her chin, lifting her head for closer inspection. A myriad of emotions flared in her orbs; satisfaction, longing, indignation. The latter prompted the faint quirk of his lips, her strong personality showing through, furious at his handling of her, as if she were a child, needing constant care. He felt the slight spike of the fire inside of her, that bright, rosy orange that he kept under surveillance, even when away. Soon enough though, his expression darkened, noticing how unstable it was, so close to flickering embers, exhausted flames.

The acidic guilt swirled around his stomach, gnawing at his insides, and he mashed his teeth together. He was away for too long. His fingers moved to cup her jaw — rough flesh against soft skin —, thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Chapped, he noticed, the wisps of dead scales marring her peachy lips holding his dark, hesitant gaze. He couldn't hold hers, the weariness in them prompting the waves of shame crashing in his gut. He should've been here. Seldom dared the terrors plague her dreams when he was here. He hadn't been protecting her as he should.

"How was… training?"

She sounded excited. He traced his fingers over what looked like a fresh scar to the back of her jaw and couldn't fight the proud smirk that took over his features. She had been training as well, of course. There was just too much energy holed up inside those meager four feet ten, she'd be tearing down the house if she didn't let some of that out. He looked up, met by her curiously widened eyes, her mouth twisted in a small grin. He huffed, amused, cocking his chin up haughtily.

"What do you think?"

He watched as she brought one finger to tap against her chin, looking up in mock puzzlement, before encircling the hand on her jaw with her smaller one, intertwining her tawny fingers with his bronzed ones. He glanced at them for a moment, marveling at the light contrast between the hues of their skin, to then focus on the wicked grin that split her heart-shaped face, setting her gaze alight. She was unaffected. It was moronic of him to think her so weak as to be brought down by foolish nightmares, no matter how daunting and ominous they might be; so frail as to need coddling, to crumble in his absence. His mate was stronger than that, he wouldn't have her any other way.

"I'm gonna need more data."

She tugged at his hand then, with a force that should be surprising for someone her size, and he conceded, letting her pull his body flush against hers, free hand fisting the nape of his neck tightly, using his taller frame to balance herself in the tip of her feet, bringing her face closer to his, her lips to his. Bliss. Her lips felt rough against him, neglected; he moistened them with his tongue. He wound his idle hand around her waist, supporting her weight while pressing her tighter against him. Plump, unbound breasts mashed against his chest. He delved deeper into her mouth, savoring the hearty, balmy rich taste of her; the tangy aftertaste sweeping up his own mouth. He couldn't stop, knowing it would turn bitter in his pallet the moment he did, like dark chocolate; her flavor a delightful trap.

Sniffing her smoky scent in gulfs through his nose, lips still locked tightly with her creamy ones, he lowered the hand in her back to cup her bottom and lift her up, taking the few steps and tumbling both promptly into the soft bed. She opened her legs to wrap them deftly over his hips, he parted from her lips with a sigh, resting his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. He had been away for way too long; finally, he was home.


End file.
